


bloodied teeth (and broken hearts)

by skatzaa



Series: Carasynthia [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alderaan, Cara Dune-centric, Corellia (Star Wars), I want to read more about my girl, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Spoilers for The Mandalorian s01e08, Tetherbrawl, The Destruction of Alderaan, that should be a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: Cara Dune is on Corellia, fighting in a tetherbrawl bout—when word comes in.About Alderaan.
Series: Carasynthia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848388
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	bloodied teeth (and broken hearts)

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I finally finished up the "Cara finds out about the destruction of Alderaan" fic I've been toying with. This one is 100% compatible with my last Cara fic, _Self Preservation_ because they were written around the same time, so they've been lumped into a series (along with a ST era Cara/Leia fic, for anyone interested in that :p)
> 
> Warnings for the destruction of Alderaan and all that entails.

Cara ducked a punch. Yanked on the tether—ignored the spike of pain, electricity crackling along her palm. No gauntlets allowed in this brawl. She missed them. Brought her free hand up to block an incoming fist. Twisted the arm away, freed her hand from the tether—drew back her elbow—

_“The match is over,”_ the announcer blared over the loudspeaker. 

Cara staggered—against her own momentum and her opponent’s. Didn’t matter how close she’d been to finishing the Togruta off: once a match was called, absolutely no more contact. It was one of the only tetherbrawl rules that was consistently followed, no matter the planet or the pit.

She’d _never_ had a match called before one or both of the brawlers were unconscious, or bleeding heavily enough that they couldn’t put up a fight. Not unless a club was about to be raided—but this place was legal. Their license was current and everything, she’d checked. She couldn’t afford another citation on her record. Not even Corellia was that lenient with law breakers.

The buzz of adrenaline receded slightly; it was then that Cara realized how quiet the arena had grown. She swung her head up, searching out the source of the disturbance, but the crowds—every head was turned away from the sunken brawl pit, and towards the HoloNet stations the club strategically placed throughout the premise, so bettors could keep up with the latest race results. 

It was silent.

The loudspeaker crackled to life once more. _“Fighters, please disengage your tether and exit the pit.”_

Cara punched in the release sequence and watched as the Togruta stumbled away, in worse shape than she was. He was big, even for a Togruta, but new to tetherbrawling. His footwork’d been sloppy. She would’ve had him with one, maybe two more hits.

He fled the pit first, dripping a faint trail of blue-tinged blood in his wake, and she let him. She’d still get a small cut for the fight, even if she didn’t win. And she didn’t need the money—not quite yet, anyway.

The skirting around the pit was a warren of hallways and waiting chambers, some of them still equipped with gear from the days before this place went legal. Cara snaked her way towards the brawlers’ exit, stopping, briefly, in one such chamber to retrieve her gauntlets and comlink. It was quiet down here too—none of the usual sounds, fighters hyping themselves up as they waited for their match, or injured brawlers receiving subpar treatment after a bout.

Cara turned a corner and saw two of the Twi’leki waitresses startle apart, when moments before they’d been standing close, their heads bowed together. Another second beyond that, they relaxed again, realizing it was only her.

“Hi Cara,” one said, subdued. Her usually bright blue skin was blanched a sickly shade that almost bordered on gray. Beside her, the second Twi’lek didn’t even try to meet Cara’s gaze. Her face was flushed a dark, almost painful green.

“Hey Uuso, Auhi,” Cara said, nodding once. She winced as the motion made a sharp pain flare in her jaw. Goddesses, she hadn’t noticed that before. It would need some ice at least. “What’s going on? G’vev isn’t one to call off a bout.”

Especially not when it was likely to make him money; which, as the owner of the club, was _every_ bout.

Auhi flushed even darker, looking wrung out. Her eyes were bloodshot and small. Even her lekku were drooping. 

“G’vev just received word,” Uuso said, even more subdued. Basic sounded stranger than usual in her mouth, a struggle to form every sound. She didn’t say _where_ G’vev received word from; on Corellia, _word_ could mean a lot of things, and most of those were illegal. “Alderaan’s been attacked. Some people are saying it is da—no.” She stopped, made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. “Auhi, what is the word?”

“Destroyed,” Auhi all but whispered.

No.

_No._

It couldn’t be. It was—it was a lie. Imperial propaganda, nothing more. 

She didn’t realize she’d take a staggering step back until Auhi and Uuso were there, arms outstretched as if to stop her. Stop her from what?

Fumbling, she tore off a gauntlet and pulled out her comlink, keyed in a comm number she knew by heart. Her fathers’. 

Nothing. Not even static, or a busy tone, or a prompt for a message. Just, nothing.

She hung up and keyed in the next number, her brother’s. Again, nothing.

Her tía who lived by the sea: nothing. Her cousin, who was studying at the University d’Aldera and would be up, revising for exams. Even a friend from her childhood, whose number she managed to dredge from the depths of her memory.

Silence. 

Cara took another step, and another, until her back hit the wall. Auhi and Uuso followed, hovering just out of reach, as if they were afraid she might lash out. Hurt them.

She couldn’t. They were the closest thing she had to friends in this club, she couldn’t hurt them.

Could she?

Her knees buckled and she slid down, down, down the wall. Auhi reached out one hand, and drew back.

Something was creaking. Her knuckles hurt—not an ache from the brawl, but from pressure building, the bones grinding together. 

“Cara, stop—”

Something cracked. She looked down at her hand, at the black fragments of plastoid in her palm. A tremor ran through her body, and she watched as several pieces clattered to the ground. 

Realization dawned slowly. 

The comlink. 

She tilted her hand, and let the rest of it fall away.

They were gone, and she was alone in the cold, awful vastness of the galaxy. 

After a long, long time, she managed to push her way to her feet and stagger forward, toward the brawlers’ exit. She didn’t know what, exactly, she was going to do, but she had to do _something._ Confirm that it was the truth, maybe, drink away all her credits, probably. Start a bar fight that would almost certainly get her that final citation to spend a few miserable months in jail—almost certainly. She knew herself well enough to recognize the path of her own self-destruction. 

She’d been down it before. 

“Cara, wait,” Uuso said at her back. “Your credits for the match—”

“Tell G’vev to keep them,” she said, and hardly recognized the sound of her own voice. “This was my last match.”

She could— _would,_ never again, return home, and it was that crushing, smothering thought that drove her out into the Corellian night, ready and willing to do anything that might lessen the ache in her heart. Anything that might silence the scream building behind her teeth. 

Spoilre-fucking-alert: It doesn't work.


End file.
